


Evasion

by DannyPhantomSG1, sapphireswimming



Category: Danny Phantom
Genre: A bit-beyond-friendship fluff, F/M, Friendship, Gaming, Hanging Out, Humor, Jazz Fenton is Doing Her Best, Mention of Danny Fenton/Sam Manson, One Shot, Post-Canon, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-27
Updated: 2012-04-27
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:06:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23058973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DannyPhantomSG1/pseuds/DannyPhantomSG1, https://archiveofourown.org/users/sapphireswimming/pseuds/sapphireswimming
Summary: With Danny and Sam on a date, Tucker and Jazz are left to spend the afternoon together. And they learn just how well they get along.
Relationships: Jazz Fenton & Tucker Foley, Jazz Fenton/Tucker Foley
Kudos: 3
Collections: Collabs and Challenges with DannyPhantomSG1





	Evasion

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted here: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/8069765/1/Evasion
> 
> A line-by-line collab

"I think there should be bullets," said Tucker, not taking his eyes off the screen.

"What, you want this to be harder than it already is?"

He scoffed at her, his fingers continuing to dance expertly across the controller, as if he weren't even trying. "Whatever, Jazzy. You just don't have the skills of the master," he said, sparing a glance at the redhead.

She rolled her eyes before shooting him a glare, unsatisfied by the smirk crossing his features.

"Yeah, well, I don't have these skills because—" she started before being pulled back to the screen by a nod from Tucker.

She felt the controller rumble angrily, and she threw her head back with a sigh as the dreadful message crossed her side of the screen yet again, "You've been wasted! Go ghost again?"

"You know that we can stop if you want," Tucker offered, but Jazz quickly cut him off with an emphatic "No!"

Truth be told, she should stop. There was little more disconcerting than constantly watching the image of her little brother—pixelly as he may be—getting constantly "wasted" by some villainous foe (she never could remember their names… Ghost X?) played by his best friend.

She couldn't stop, though., It had almost become an obsession over the course of the afternoon (twenty seven 'game over's and apparently still counting), but she couldn't stop without Phantom winning at least one. Plus, it wasn't like she had anywhere else to be; with Danny and Sam out on a date, it was actually surprisingly nice spending some time with Tucker. She looked over at him and narrowed her eyes with a determined glint.

"You are so on, oh master of skills," she challenged.

A strange look passed through his eyes—a look Jazz couldn't place—and she berated herself for her lack of psychological prowess.

"Just how long do you plan to keep going?" he asked.

"Until Danny wastes… this… ghost." She proudly proclaimed, nodding at her own ability to cover for the fact that she couldn't remember his name.

Tucker quirked an eyebrow. "It's not like this is real life or anything. Or that your playing reflects poorly on Danny… I just have mad skills."

He flashed her that cocky, winning smile that meant he was hiding behind an inferiority complex, flaunting his technological skills to make up for the fact that his best friend was, frankly, a superhero.

She read it all clearly on his face and smiled softly, understanding exactly what he meant. After all, the only thing she had going for her in the real life doings of Team Phantom were her smarts, nosiness, and ability to lie to her parents. But she shook her head, forcing her own musings away, as Tucker's smile had now faded to a look of confusion as she discreetly psychoanalyzed his every move.

Why was she doing that?

She cleared her throat and said, "You may have some mad skills, but I have rightness on my side… and persistence… and time… and at the end of the day, rightness with prevail!"

"'Rightness?' Wow, way to go, Miss 4.0," Tucker cackled sarcastically.

"Fine, 'righteousness,' oh Mr. Nit-picky, if you think that another syllable or two matters so much."

He laughed at her indignation, and she couldn't help the small smile that broke out on her face in response.

"So," he said, waggling his eyebrows at her, "are you ready to lose once again? For I, Skulker, the Ghost Zone's greatest hunter, shall soon have your pelt adorning my wall, whelp!"

She winced inherently at the mental image but narrowed her eyes fiercely at him nonetheless.

"Bring it on."

Tucker obliged, clicked them though the default settings to bring them to the restart of the round. Jazz tensed as the music started and she gained control of her character. This was it.

As soon as the countdown allowed them to start, Tucker opened up with a barrage of blasts. Jazz gave a short yelp as she yanked knobs on her controller, yelling, "stop shooting at me!"

Tucker tossed her a look that was both amused and annoyed at the same time. "But I must waste you, Ghost-boy. Plus, that's the point of the game…"

"I know, Tucker, but just give me a second before you do that. …And you won't do it this time, Ghost X!" she finished loudly.

She stuck her tongue out and leaned into the movements in the game, willing "Danny" to blast faster and dodge with more ease. She was determined this time. Tucker took his eyes off the screen long enough to watch her play, and he quietly smiled to himself.

"Aha!" Jazz yelled in triumph, pulling his attention quickly back to the game. "I got you!" Then as realization sank in, "I got you!"

Tucker's face displayed something akin to shock as he watched his energy meter deplete. It was like someone had shot a hole in his own heart—his own defences—as he failed even the slightest bit of something technology-related. And yet… he was strangely okay with it…

As the minutes wore on, Jazz landed more and more of these lucky hits in moments when he was distracted (she really was getting better at this) until his health meter flashed an ominous red.

His mind raced, and his heart beat wildly—now was the moment of truth. Now was the moment in which he had to choose between maintaining his carefully-constructed relationship with technology or… letting it go in favor of… friendship?

The question was answered moments later when Jazz let out a triumphant squeal and began bouncing up and down on the couch as the screen flashed the unbelievable message "You've been wasted! Attempt to capture the halfa again?"

He merely blinked, surprised at his own decision, as he watched Jazz dance in victory., Despite the ache in his heart, he felt the corners of his mouth pull upward. Soon, he was smiling just as much as Jazz was, laughing just as much as she was… until she regained control of herself and suddenly looked at him.

With a hint of humor in her voice, she narrower her eyes suspiciously as she asked, "Wait, wait. Did _I_ , Jazz Fenton, just beat _you_ , Tucker Foley, at a videogame?"

After a moment that lasted just a tad too long, he gave a strange sort of shrug and said, "well, what can I say? I guess your beginner's luck finally caught up with you."

He winced a little, shirking back from her as she cocked an eyebrow, indicating that she was buying none of his lies. "What?" she queried, "After twenty seven founds, I finally get beginner's luck?"

When he let the silence linger, she suddenly became serious. "Tucker?"

An uncharacteristic blush crept onto his face, and he turned from her before she could see. What _was_ going on? Why _had_ he let her win? Even he was unsure.

Jazz looked after him, wondering why the technology whiz had suddenly closed himself off from her like that, before suddenly getting an idea about it that she didn't like.

"Whoa, Tucker… did you… did you let me win?" she asked incredulously, sitting down next to him. He looked away and she turned even further toward him. "No, seriously, tell me. Did you?"

Straightening and deciding to fumble his way through the interrogation of the up-and-coming psychologist, Tucker turned briskly toward her with the façade of a smile on his face.

"Me? Let you win? Pshww. Are you kidding me? How could I do that when I have such a reputation and win streak to uphold?"

She read him like an open book, not even blinking as she confidently accused, "You're a terrible liar, Tucker. You're lucky the role of 'expert liar' on the team belongs to me. You let me win… but why?" It was almost as if she were pondering the question herself rather than posing it to him.

"You honestly want to know?" He still didn't make eye contact.

"Yes," she replied, sure of her answer without even needing to think twice about it.

"Well, um," how was he to answer when he wasn't even sure of his own reasoning? "I just… didn't wanna keep seeing Danny get wasted. Gets weird after a while, I guess. Even for me… and even though it's just a videogame…"

Okay, that was definitely not his reason. But he hoped she would buy it.

She thought for a minute, deciding that something was definitely missing from his answer, but also realizing that if he didn't want to answer, she was in no position to get it out of him. After all, it wasn't like Tucker was her brother or anything…

She blinked rapidly and blushed at the thought for some reason. Slowly, she sneaked her hand over to his and simply placed it on top of his, hoping to offer comfort for whatever he was feeling and hiding. They both avoided eye contact as they sat stiffly, finding odd solace in the feeling of each other's hands—a support system for the two leftover members of a groups set to save the world.

"It's not like he's your brother." It kept repeating in her mind like a mantra.

Why?

Her eyes drifted to their hands, hers and his, between them, and suddenly something clicked in her head. She knew why that phrase had repeated itself. Or, she knew why it might have. Because Tucker was most definitely not like her brother.

A blush darkened her cheeks and she pulled her hand away from his to try to cover it.

As soon as her hand moved, his head jerked to face her, with an odd expression on it. Almost as if he had wanted her hand there just as much as she had wanted to keep it there.

Jazz coughed to break the growing tension and gave him a quick, dazzling smile. "Uh… you up for a pizza?"

"Meat lovers?"

"I'll do a pepperoni."

"Sure thing."

They both grinned.


End file.
